


Winter Night Traveler

by oliviastyles28



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No One Direction, Bottom Louis, Cabin Fic, Idaho, M/M, Non-Famous Harry, Pre-Relationship, Singer Louis Tomlinson, Smut, Snowed In, Stranger Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Surprise Sex, Top Harry, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviastyles28/pseuds/oliviastyles28
Summary: A dangerous snow storm leaves Louis stranded in his cabin. Lucky for him, he gets an unexpected visitor...
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BestLarrieFics (theendofjune)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theendofjune/gifts).

It was going to snow.

The sky was low and flat, a heavy gray that blended into the frozen arctic landscape. It was difficult to tell where the earth stopped and the sky began. The air had a distinct, sharp smell and the wind that blew had a particularly icy edge. The few trees that dotted the barren plain moaned under the beating of the wind, their branches making a mournful sound that settled in the soul.

Louis Tomlinson stood outside of his cabin, his artist’s eyes taking in all the details of the impending storm. He was always aware of them hovering and pressing closer. He cupped his hands, covered in thick gloves, up to his mouth and blew into them for warmth. Maybe his instincts were wrong and the snow wouldn’t amount to any more than the six inch prediction broadcasted over the radio.

But if it came down to it, Louis trusted his instincts. For as long as he could remember, every time there had been a big snow, he had gotten the same crawling feeling beneath his skin. The atmosphere charged with energy, Mother Nature gathering strength to unleash a striking blow. Whether caused by the static electricity or plain old foreboding, his spine was tingling with an uneasiness that wouldn’t let him rest and was completely inconducive to writing.

Louis wasn’t worried about surviving; he had food, water, and shelter. What he was worried about, was the loneliness. This was to be the first time in his memory that he’d had to go through snow alone. Throughout his early years he’d had his parents and siblings. And after that, a string of girlfriends to cuddle up with. Hell, even the caretakers had left him. The sweet little elderly couple who owned the cabin Louis was staying in had just that week become grandparents for the first time. They had set out for London two days prior, promising to return only when they had taken an adequate amount of pictures.

At least the caretaker and his wife had the forethought to secure all the cabins before they left. The small compound on which Louis was staying consisted of five cabins all together. The cabin Louis called home was the largest of the set, all of which hugged the picturesque lake which sat in the middle. At least, Louis assumed it was picturesque in the fleeting months of spring. For the duration of his stay it had been frozen over and intimidating, as if warning intruders to stay away.

Actually, the weather had been mild this year, especially for Idaho. Though it was December, there had only been one snow, a mere three inches. All traces of that storm were nearly gone, the only remnant was the crunching of Louis’s boots as he moved further away from the cabin.

Even the infamously optimistic slobber-hound, a golden retriever, otherwise known as Tinkerbell even though he was neither female nor a fairy, seemed to be worrying about the weather. He stayed right behind Louis as he moved from cabin to cabin, enjoying the chill out the outdoors while he still could. Tinkerbell belonged to the caretakers, but had taken a special liking to Louis since the day of his arrival. At first Louis was apprehensive; he’d been allergic to every dog he’d encountered since he was seven years old. But for some reason, the same did not apply to Tinkerbell and the two had become fast friends.  
Those brown eyes were irresistible, staring up at him with love and boundless trust. Louis squatted down and rubbed the dog behind his ears. “You big mutt,” he said lovingly, and he responded to the tone with a swipe of his tongue on Louis’s hand.

At least someone loves me, Louis thought, righting himself and continuing on his walk. His little vacation to the cabin was supposed to have been just that, little. After the ceremonious end to his tumultuous relationship, he needed the break. This little cabin in Idaho had the double benefit of being far away from Eleanor and far away from England. At first he had enjoyed the solitude, the chance to think and write without interruption. But the silence was beginning to weigh on his spirit and the nights of staying up to write had melted into the numerous bottles of vodka consumed.

Although his relationship with Eleanor had been emotionally and sometimes physically abusive, she had always been there for him. Now it was just Louis, Tinkerbell, and the impending snow.

He contemplated going back to London, or perhaps taking a trip to Rome, but neither held much appeal. Louis wanted nothing more than a good thick stew, a melancholy book, and a bottle of strong vodka.

Giving one last glance at the shivering trees and the ominous sky, Louis flicked his forgotten cigarette into the snow and started back towards the cabin.

His home for the last three months was beautiful. Not grand, not luxurious, but definitely beautiful. The front of the A-frame was a wall of windows, giving a wonderful view to the sun as it tracked its way across the sky. A natural rock fireplace soared the entire two stories of the cabin, and when lit, heated the whole cabin to a nice, toasty temperature. Lush green vines that somehow Louis had managed not to kill, draped over book cases that housed his collections quite nicely. The floors were made of inlaid hard wood and were decorated with opulent jewel colored area rugs that reminded Louis of the Russian Winter Palace.

Discarding his jacket and gloves, he turned to look out the windows. It was only three o’clock but the clouds were so heavy, it looked like dusk. The snow was beginning to fall, fluffy wet flakes that had already dusted the ground white.

He shivered even though the house was perfectly warm, that crawling feeling still all over his skin.

But maybe he was wrong. Maybe it wouldn’t snow that much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dangerous snow storm leaves Louis stranded in his cabin. Lucky for him, he gets an unexpected visitor...

He wasn’t wrong.  
  
The wind began to howl, to sweep down from the menacing arctic mountains and the snowfall grew steadily more heavy. With nightfall, Louis could no longer see out the windows, so he opened the door to peek out. The savage wind slammed into the door, almost knocking him over. Snow exploded into the room and Louis could see nothing but an unyielding wall of white.  
  
Exerting great effort, he grabbed the door and threw all his weight into it, forcing it shut. The wind still battled to get in, wailing a high pitched cry like somebody in pain.   
  
Louis pushed his hair out of his face and blew out a deep breath. That was a full-fledged blizzard, a complete white out where wind and snow blocked all visibility. His shoulder ached from ramming it into the door and melted snow had created a sizeable puddle on the floor. “Well, let’s not do that again,” Louis mumbled to Tink, and then set out in search of a mop and a towel to dry the floor.  
  
In further preparation for being stranded, Louis placed some dry kindling and rolled newspaper under the logs he had already placed in the hearth. He produced his trusty lighter from his pocket and watched as the blue and yellow flames licked at the paper and moved on to the sticks of kindling. He continued to watch the fire for moment to make sure it stayed lit and to enjoy the mesmerizing beauty.   
  
Tink settled down on his rug, his muzzle on his front paws. Perfectly content, he closed his eyes.  
  
“You shouldn’t get so worked up, we’re perfectly safe here,” Louis advised the dog. Tink responded by rolling on to one side offering up his belly for Louis’s hand.  
  
Louis thought about what to do. In light of the storm, television and radio reception would be nonexistent, but it was way too early for sleep. He felt as though he should be doing something, but his only real options were reading and writing, neither of which held any appeal. Restlessly Louis wandered the house, the piercing cries of the wind still fraying his nerves. Maybe a bath would help. He climbed the stairs, shedding articles of clothing as he went.  
  
The fire had already heated the upstairs, and because his bedroom door was open, that room was toasty warm.  
  
He contemplated a shower instead of a bath, but in the end he decided to fill the tub with water. Opting for a natural form of light, Louis lit the vanilla and cinnamon scented candles he had strewn about the room. His naked flesh gleamed in the water, oddly different, almost distorted by candlelight. Curves were highlighted and shadows deepened. His skin took on a preternatural glow, the hair between his legs became darker and more mysterious.  
  
“Not a bad body for twenty-eight,” Louis said as he inspected himself carefully. Perhaps a bit on the thin side, but with well-crafted and delineated muscles.  
A body that hadn’t had sex in eight long months.  
  
Immediately he winced at the thought. How could it have possibly been that long? One the whole, Louis was never one to be tortured by horniness, but he had always enjoyed the touch of a lover. And at the moment, he ached for it. His loins clenched with a sharp surge of need, the lapping of the water caused his tortured cock to twitch. Maybe the bath had been a mistake; the water too much like an intimate caress.  
  
Tears stung his eyes and he closed them, leaning into the water and letting it protect him like a cocoon. It was clear to him why the words had stopped coming and vagabond nature of his soul had returned. He wanted sex. Hard-thrusting, sweaty, heart-pounding sex. And he wanted to love again, to _be_ loved again. He wanted to reach out into the night and pull a warm body back into his own. Above all, he craved connection, to rid himself of this terrible plaguing loneliness.  
  
He allowed himself five more minutes to wallow, then stood up, using his toe to open the drain. Louis reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist as he moved to his bedroom. He threw on a black hoodie and a matching pair of sweat pants, grabbed his book from its place on his night-stand. Whenever he was in such a mood, reading was his best and only comfort.  
  
Tink was lying at the bottom of the stairs when he came down, blocking the way so that Louis had to step over the dog on his way to the kitchen. The downstairs was chilly when compared to the upstairs. Louis poked up the fire, then microwaved a cup of hot chocolate. That done, he rooted around in the cupboard until he produced a bottle of peppermint schnapps and added a healthy shot to the chocolate goodness. Cushions behind his back and a blanket over his legs added the finishing touches. Soothed and comfortable, Louis soon lost himself to the story.  
  
The night hours drifted by but Louis took no notice: the adventures written on the pages far more interesting than his current surroundings. He went to take another drink of his cocoa and was displeased to find his cup totally empty. Grumbling, he got up, added another log to the fire, and padded his way into the kitchen for a refill. Tink came over to watch, and Louis dipped his hand to scratch behind his ear. Suddenly, he stiffened and a low growl emanated from the dog’s throat. He tore over to the front door and stood in front of it, barking furiously.  
  
Something was out there.  
  
He didn’t know how Tink could hear anything but the wind, but Louis trusted the dog’s senses. But that had to be ridiculous. Who, or what, could possibly be out roaming around in a weather like this?  
  
Something thumped heavily against the door.  
  
Tink went crazy again, alternating between barking and bearing his teeth in a threatening snarl. “Tink, be quiet,” Louis yelled as he tried to get his own bearing on the situation.  
  
“Help.”  
  
“Holy shit ” It was a fucking _person_ out there. How had they gotten so far away from the main road? Deciding it didn’t really matter, Louis rushed to the door and battled to move Tink out of the way so he could get it open.  
  
The door crashed into the wall as something white and heavy fell on to Louis's legs. The ‘white thing’ was clearly a man.  
  
Louis braced his legs and put his arms under the man, using all his strength to drag the dead weight into the house far enough to close the door. Tink was still barking and frantically bouncing around the intruder. Panting with exertion, Louis somehow managed to crawl his way back to the door and force it shut for the second time that night. The wind continued to pound at the house, as if enraged at being shut out. The heavy wooden door shuddered under the stress. Louis threw the bolt, locking them all safely inside.  
  
He had to be in bad shape. Turning his attention to the man crusted in ice, Louis knelt beside him and removed the towel that was wrapped around his face.  
  
“Can you hear me?” Louis asked insistently. “Are you awake?”  
  
The man was silent, limp, and not even shivering, which was a bad sign. One didn’t grow up in Idaho without learning the dangers of cold and hypothermia. If you’re still shivering, your body still has enough strength to try to keep itself warm. No shivering means the body has given up. Louis used the towel to wipe the snow from the man’s face and hair. The skin underneath was deathly white, the lips an anoxic shade of blue.  
  
As swiftly as possible, given the fact he was wrestling dead weight, Louis set about removing the man’s wet clothes. Thick gloves came off first, then a densely insulated coat. He didn’t take time to inspect for frostbite, just moved down to the man’s feet and began to unlace his boots. Underneath them, Louis found the man was wearing three pairs of wool socks. Whoever it was had certainly been dressed for the cold. If he had been that prepared, why didn’t he know about th storm?  
  
Moving back up, Louis removed the man’s sweatshirt and the two long-sleeved thermal shirts underneath that. He tossed the shirts into a pile and then moved on to the man’s belt buckle. Louis fought with the stiff material of the frozen snow pants. He hesitated before removing the stranger’s boxers, but seeing as they were wet, it was best they were disposed of, too.  
  
Now Louis had to get him dried off and bundled up. He ran to the upstairs bathroom and grabbed all the towels he could fit in his arms and the blanket off the end of his bed. He raced back to the living room. The man hadn’t moved a muscle, but then, Louis hadn’t expected him to. Louis dragged the man until he was laying in front of the fire, and then tucked the blanket tightly around his body. Then, grimly, Louis began taking off his own clothes. Once he was completely naked, he grabbed the blanket he had been curled in earlier and held it up to the fire. Throwing open the blanket, he placed it over the man and then crawled in next to him.  
  
Shared body heat was the best way to combat hypothermia. Louis pressed himself closer to the cold body, forcing himself not to flinch when he came in contact with the icy skin. Chastising himself for being such a sissy, he climbed on top of the man and pressed himself close. He was sure the man was not going to appreciate their positioning when and if he woke up, but given the circumstance, Louis didn’t have much of a choice. The man would understand and appreciate that, right? Somehow, Louis didn’t think so. Still, Louis massaged the man’s arms and chest, tucked the cold hands under his belly.   
The man moaned, a faint sound whispering past his lips.  
  
“That’s right,” Louis murmured. “Wake up, sweetheart.” Looking down at him, Louis swore his lips weren’t as blue.  
  
And then he began to shiver.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dangerous snow storm leaves Louis stranded in his cabin. Lucky for him, he gets an unexpected visitor...

Louis held the man, murmured to him, tried to get him to talk. If only the handsome stranger would wake up for long enough to drink some coffee, the heat and caffeine would go a long way in the warming process. But pouring hot coffee into an unconscious man was a good way to both choke and burn him.  
  
The stranger moaned again and took in a quick breath. He made a sharp movement with his head and Louis noticed that the heat from the fire had dried his hair. Dark, chocolate colored tendrils curled around his ears, framing his face. In the light of the fire, Louis swore he saw subtle golden streaks matted to the now damp forehead.  
  
“Wake up, darling. Open those pretty eyes and talk to me,” Louis whispered the words softly as if he was afraid of being overheard. The endearments slipped unconsciously from his mouth as a way to coax the man into responding.  
  
The faint shivers began to intensify and the man gritted his teeth as each new wave wracked his body. Louis held him through the convulsive shaking. He was obviously in pain, groaning loudly and trying to curl into a fetal position. It took all of Louis’s strength to keep the man pinned against the heat from his own body. “You’re alright,” he repeated the phrase. “Please, wake up, darling. Please, let me see your eyes.”  
  
Much to Louis’s surprise, the man obeyed. Weary lids half-lifted and revealed just a sliver of breathtaking green before sliding shut again. It was Louis's turn to inhale a sharp breath. Those eyes were nothing short of amazing. Strong arms covered in tattoos shot up and wrapped around Louis, desperately clinging to the warmth as yet another horrible shiver overtook them.  
  
Whoever this man was, he was incredibly strong; his arms were like a vice grip around Louis's waist. As soon as the shaking subsided, Louis went back to rubbing the stranger’s arms and shoulders, continued to press their bodies close. He tried to tell himself that what he was doing was all for the stranger’s benefit, and indeed, the man would have frozen to death if not for Louis's ministrations. But the skin beneath his body was beginning to warm, and damn if it didn’t feel good.  
  
At first the stranger had been too cold, too pale and blue for Louis to notice the sensations produced by the naked body against his own. But, as the shivering subsided, he took his time appraising the stranger’s features. He was tall, and he was well-built with a defined chest and hard muscles. Tattoos all over his body, spelling out his life story, he assumed. Good-looking, too, with smooth skin that glowed beautifully in the firelight. The stranger shifted, causing the two bodies to rub against each other in a way Louis wasn’t prepared for. His nipples tingled from the contact and his long neglected cock was starting to take notice. It was definitely time to get up. He pushed gently against the slumbering form, using him as leverage to rise, but the man groaned and tightened his arms. The shivering started again, and Louis couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, or if the poor man was afraid. Quickly weighing the options, Louis let himself relax.  
  
The shaking wasn’t quite as violent anymore. The man swallowed and licked his lips, and his eyes flicked open again, just for a second. Once again, Louis gasped at their beauty. Then the man seemed to doze. Because he was warm now, Louis wasn’t as concerned. His own muscles quivered from exhaustion; dragging the stranger in the house and warming him up had taken more energy than Louis had initially realized. He closed his eyes too, resting for just a minute.  
  
Time drifted. Half-asleep, warm, boneless from fatigue, Louis didn’t know if a minute had passed, or an hour. The stranger’s hand moved down Louis's back, smoothing over one rounded cheek. Legs shifted, muscled legs nudged Louis’s legs apart, slid between his thighs.  
  
It happened so fast. The stranger was inside him before either man was fully awake. The man rolled, pinning Louis to the blanket and mounted him roughly. He squeezed his cock into his savior’s opening, drove deep with quick, hard shoves. After eight months of total chastity and with the lack of preparation, the penetration hurt. Louis's inner walls stretched and burned around the thick shaft, but it felt good, too. Nerve endings began to alight, and the precum dripping from the stranger’s cock began to ease each thrust. Still disoriented, but unbelievably aroused, Louis arched his hips to allow the man to drive deeper.  
  
On a purely physical level, the pleasure was greater than what Louis had ever known. Never had he been so aroused, so aware of his own body or that of his partner. He had slept with men before, but each of those occasions had been a drunken tumble in a far-away hotel room. With the stranger in his arms, Louis felt every inch of the smooth, hard shaft inside him, along with an excitement that was wholly new. His inner flesh clung to the intruder, welcoming him, hesitating to let him go again as each stroke pushed him closer and closer to climax. They were both unbearably hot, scorching, clinging desperately as their bodies mindlessly sought orgasm. Louis grabbed hard on the man’s ass and grinded himself on the throbbing cock as deeply as he could. The last string of his sanity shattered as he screamed into the empty room, painted both of their chests with opalescent ribbons. Seconds later, a low moan spilled from the stranger’s lips as Louis felt the hot semen explode deep within his core.  
  
The man collapsed, and they held tightly to each other, hearts pounding wildly, breathing hard and fast. They clung to each other like dying men to a life raft, arms and legs impossibly tangled.  
  
As soon as the madness subsided, the stranger was asleep. Louis, too, felt the darkness descending and there was nothing he could do about it. He managed to touch the sleeping man’s cheek, smooth his hair back from his forehead before surrendering to the inescapable need for rest.

\--

The collapse of a log awoke him. He stirred, wincing as his muscles protested the hard floor beneath him, the heavy body weighing him down. Confused, at first he thought he was dreaming. This couldn’t be real, he couldn’t be lying naked on the floor with a strange man, who was also completely naked.  
  
But Tink was resting in his accustomed place, and the shrieking wind, the gently flickering firelight, recalled the blizzard. Everything clicked into place.  
  
And just as abruptly he realized the stranger was also awake. He was lying very still, but every muscle was tense, and his cock, which was still buried deep inside Louis, was growing thicker and longer by the second.  
  
If Louis was confused, he could only imagine how disoriented the other man was. Gently he touched the man’s back, smoothed his palm up the muscled expanse. “I’m awake,” he murmured, his touch telling the stranger he was there because he wanted to be, that everything was okay.  
  
He lifted his head and their eyes met. Louis felt an almost tangible shock as he stared into those green eyes, eyes that were completely aware and revealed the sharpness of the personality behind them, as well as his comprehension of the situation.  
  
As per usual, Louis wasn't one to blush, but now he felt his cheeks heating up, and he almost groaned aloud. What do you say to a man you’re meeting for the first time, when you’re already lying naked beneath him and his warm hardness is still buried inside your body?  
  
The man reached up, trailed one finger tip across Louis's lips, then lightly stroked his cheek. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered.  
  
The first time had caught him unawares, but Louis was always brutally honest with himself, and he didn’t let himself pretend he had been unwilling. This time, however, they were both fully cognizant of what they were doing. He didn’t stop to analyze or question his response, he simply gave it. “No,” he whispered in return. “Don’t stop.”  
  
They kissed then, a kiss as gentle and searching as if nothing had ever passed between them. They kissed for a long time until Louis's mouth slanted eagerly under the man’s, until their tongues twined together. The man's hands meandered down Louis's chest, learning how he liked to be touched, teasing the rosebud colored flesh into tight little buds before taking them in his mouth. He stroked Louis's stomach, his hips, between his legs. He licked his fingertips and then wrapped his hand around Louis's velvet length, coaxing it back to its full thickness. Louis couldn’t help it as his hips arched themselves upward, eliciting a deep groan from his lover’s mouth, who then pulled their bodies impossibly closer.  
  
Louis thought he would die from the sensual torment before the man finally began moving, but he enjoyed it so much he didn’t urge him to hurry. He hadn’t fully understood how hungry he was for this, for a man’s attention, for his body, for exquisite release. All the fights with Eleanor, the feeling of being unfulfilled and unsatisfied after sex suddenly made sense. He’d been having sex with the wrong gender. Or maybe, just maybe it had to be this man, this particular person to wake him up again.  
  
Even his frustration earlier in the bath hadn’t prepared him for the total surrender to sensuality. He clung to the stranger, returned his touch, his caress, tried to return some of the pleasure he was receiving. Judging from the man’s groans, he succeeded.   
  
The time came when they no longer needed gentle touches, when nothing mattered but the pounding drive to completion. Louis let himself drown in the urgency of the moment, let his body drown in pure pleasure... and then came the man’s voice, raspy, dripping with lust, whispering, “Let me feel it again; let me feel you come.”  
  
His self-control held, barely. The hand around his cock tightened, the pace quickened to match that of the joining of their bodies. When the pulses of Louis’s second climax began, the man made a deep, helpless sound in his throat and shuddered over him.  
  
This time, Louis didn’t allow himself the luxury of sleep. This time, the stranger withdrew and collapsed on the blanket at his side. His hand sought Louis's, gently covering his fingers with a calloused palm.  
  
“Tell me what happened,” he said finally, his voice low and even. “Who are you?”  
  
An introduction at this point seemed unbearably awkward. Louis blushed again and cleared his throat. “Louis Tomlinson.”  
  
The green eyes searched his face. “I thought you looked familiar. Harry Styles.”  
  
The fire was getting too low. Louis needed to put another couple of logs on, but getting up and standing naked in front of this Harry was somehow impossible. He looked around for his pajamas and realized with agonizing embarrassment that he needed to shower before he put those back on.  
  
Harry saw where Louis was looking and did not suffer such embarrassment. Unfolding his limbs from the floor, he stepped over to the stack of wood and replenished the fire. Louis did exactly what he had been too embarrassed to let the man do to him: looked him over good, from head to toe. He liked what he saw, every inch of him. His muscles were delineated in the firelight, revealing the slope and curve of shoulders that weren’t quite broad, but were solid and strong. His chest was smooth and toned, as were his arms, thighs, and legs. His ass was high, round and firm. Even soft, his cock was intriguingly thick. The thought of what he could do with it caused Louis to intake a sharp breath, lick his reddened lips. _Harry_ _Styles._ He repeated the name in his mind, the syllables strong and brisk.   
  
Tinkerbell looked a little grumpy at having his sleep disturbed. He got up and sniffed at the stranger, wagged his tail when the man leaned down to pet him. “I remember the dog barking,” Harry said.  
  
“He heard you before I did. His name is Tinkerbell. Tink, for short.”  
  
“Tinkerbell?” He glanced at Louis, laughter in his green eyes. “He’s gay?”  
  
Louis laughed, genuinely amused. “No, he’s just an eternally optimistic, goofy dog. He thinks the world is here to pet him. Besides, can dogs even be gay?”  
  
It was Harry's turn to laugh. “I’m not sure; I’ve never really thought about it before.” He studied the sodden mass of his clothing, the water puddled on the floor. “How long have I been here?”  
  
Louis looked at the clock. Two-thirty. “Three and a half hours.” Too much had happened in such a short length of time, and yet it felt as if only an hour had passed. “I dragged you in and got you out of your clothes. I dried you off and wrapped you in a blanket.” He left out the part about crawling in next to him, naked as the day he was born. “I don’t know how you made it this far. Why were you on foot? Did you have an accident? And why were you out in this weather anyway?”  
  
“I was trying to make it up to the mountains. My friends are up there waiting for me, we have this ski vacation thing.”  
  
"Ski vacation thing?”  
  
“Yeah, we do it every year. Last year, we headed to the Alps.”  
  
Louis shook his head. “You were going to go ski in this weather? You're crazy.”  
  
The man shrugged. "I was trying to be hot shit and make it up there in front of the storm. Needless to say, that didn’t happen. My truck went off the road about a mile away. I had seen his place when I passed and didn’t have much of a choice but to try to make it back.”   
  
“You’re a walking miracle,” Louis didn’t bother to mince his words. “Logically, you should be dead out there in the snow.”  
  
“But I’m not, thanks to you.” Harry returned to the blanket and stretched out beside him, his gaze sober. He caught a tendril of espresso colored hair, rubbed it between his fingers before tucking it behind Louis's ear. “I know when you got under the blanket to get me warm, you weren’t expecting me to jump you as soon as I was half conscious. Tell me the truth, Lou. Were you willing?”  
  
Louis cleared his throat. “I-I was _surprised_.” He touched his hand. “But I wasn’t unwilling.”  
  
He briefly closed his eyes in relief. “I don’t have a real clear memory of anything that happened until I woke up on top of you. Or rather, I remember what I did and what _I_ felt, but I wasn’t sure you felt the same.” He spread his hand wide over Louis’s stomach, seeming to inspect the skin underneath. “I thought I was hallucinating, waking up next to that incredible body, seeing those beautiful blue eyes.”  
  
“Strictly speaking, I wasn’t _next_ to you. I was on top of you.” Louis’s face got hot again. He couldn’t remember the last time he had blushed so much. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m- that I’m not a woman?”  
  
“Do I look bothered?,” he said, and for the first time his mouth turned up into an impish grin.  
  
Louis almost lost his breath again. The man was attractive, to say the least, and he didn't bother trying to stop the crazy flip-flop in his heart at the sight of that grin. Chemistry. It had to be chemistry. Never had Louis been so attracted to anyone, male or female. He wanted to have sex again, wanted to ravage the body he’d so admired. Before he gave into that need, he forced himself to remember that Harry had been through a harrowing, physically exhausting ordeal.  
  
“Would you like some coffee?” he asked hurriedly, getting to his feet. Carefully he didn’t look at Harry as he gathered his discarded sweat pants. “Or something to eat? I made a big pot of stew yesterday. Or a shower?”  
  
“That sounds good,” he said, also standing. “All of it.” He reached out and grabbed Louis's arms, pulled them together in a bruising kiss. “And I want to take you to bed and fuck you properly.” He grinned again. “There are some things that don’t work as well on the floor.”   
  
Nothing like this had happened to him before. Louis looked down into those sparkling green eyes and his heart did another crazy flip-flop. He knew there was no way he was calling this to a halt. For as long as the blizzard raged outside, he and Harry were in this together. They may never get another chance.  
  
“I want that too,” he managed to say.  
  
“There is a bed in this place, right?” He circled Louis's nipple with the very end of his finger tip, smiled at the subtle shiver that went through his body.  
  
“Upstairs.” He swallowed. “It’s warmer up there because the heat rises. I didn’t want to risk dragging you up the stairs though, so I laid you in front of the fire.”  
  
“I’m not complaining.” Harry tugged the blankets from Louis's arms and let them fall to the floor. “On a second thought, let’s forget the coffee and the food. The bath, too... unless you were planning on getting in with me.”  
  
He hadn’t thought of it, but it was a damn good idea. Giving into the magnetic pull of their bodies, Louis forgot about everything that didn't include him melting into Harry's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments I've received. As I'm sure you all know, it keeps up the motivation to write more. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A terrible blizzard leaves Louis stranded in his cabin. Lucky for him, a beautiful stranger shows up unexpectedly...

Louis woke up beside Harry in the morning and laid there, watching him sleep. His body was more content than he ever remembered it being. He didn’t wonder how or why he responded so strongly to a man about whom he knew nothing more than his name; he simply accepted the joy that the unexpected encounter had brought into his life. The warmth of their bodies made the bed a cozy nest that he didn’t want to leave, especially since the chill in the room told him that the fire in the fireplace had burned out.  
  
It had been so long since he had been able to enjoy the simple pleasure of lying beside another person, listening to the slow, deep rhythm of his breathing. He wanted to cuddle close, but was reluctant to wake the man. After nearly freezing to death, he hadn’t exactly had the most restful night.  
  
One of Harry's muscled arms was draped across the pillow, and there were dark bruises forming on his shoulder. On top of everything else, he had been in a car accident. The wonder wasn’t that he slept now, but that he had been so energetic during the night.  
  
Louis surveyed the other details available to him. Harry had beautiful hair, dark and thick and rather long, formed into beautiful curls. And indeed, there were a few lighter, golden strands laced throughout the rich chocolate color. His face was turned towards Louis in his sleep, and the singer wanted to trace his finger along the bridge of Harry’s nose, which was perfectly shaped, if not a little too big for the rest of his features. His mouth was wide, his lips plump and soft. His jaw was distinct, but neither too sharp nor too rounded. Good looking, attractive, definitely handsome, as Louis had noted before. Just looking at the sleeping man warmed his skin and sent blood to places he really didn’t need it to go to.   
  
He felt dizzy with the force of their attraction. He had forgotten how heady infatuation could be, and how powerful. If they had met under normal circumstances, they most likely never would have looked twice at each other. The necessary physical intimacy of their naked bodies had established an unconscious connection between them. Louis had caressed him, stroked him, knew the textures of his skin from the roughness of slightly stubbled cheeks to the sleekness of muscular shoulders. The sharing of the blanket had caused some unavoidable contact of the most sexually intimate parts of their bodies, but at the time Louis hadn’t allowed himself to think about it. Until they had woken up, that is.  
  
Louis’s sexual attraction wasn’t due to simple deprivation. If he had thought it was before, now he knew differently, because he was certainly no longer deprived and he still felt the same. The sexual fit was devastating in its perfection. It was as if this Harry Styles had been born knowing exactly how to touch him, as if his body had been purposely crafted to bring Louis maximum pleasure.  
  
He thought it must be the same, at least sexually, for Harry. As exhausted and drained as he had to have been, still he had turned to Louis time and time again, his hands literally shaking with need as he drew their bodies together.  
  
The wind still blew, rattling the windows. Louis couldn’t see anything beyond the glass but an impenetrable white curtain. While the blizzard raged, the world couldn’t intrude, and they belonged to each other.  
  
What a difference one day made. Yesterday, Louis had been panicked by the sense of time passing him by, thinking he had lost all opportunity to get what he had always wanted most-- to experience, just once, an all-consuming, undeniable love. Then Harry Styles had blown in on a snow storm and abruptly turned the world upside down.  
  
Despite the heady sex of the night, and more he hoped to enjoy while the stranger was still there, he was afraid to automatically assume they were anything close to a couple. The circumstances that had brought them together were extreme, and once the weather cleared, he might be on his way without a backward look. Even with all the odds stacked against them, Louis was hopeful. Harry hadn’t freaked out when he had woken up next to a man. In fact, Harry had been nothing but wonderful, not to mention the sweetest, most amazing lover Louis had ever known.  
  
For one usually so careful with his heart, Louis was precariously walking the line between insanity and love.  
  
This morning, with his head clear and the stresses of the emergency behind him, Louis felt a little guilty about what they had done. What if Harry was married? What if he had a boyfriend or girlfriend waiting for him at the mountains? No, he didn’t wear a ring, but it wasn’t in Louis's nature to be so careless about such things. He cringed at the thought of having slept with a married man, but he didn’t know if it was due to the infidelity, or the thought that Harry might truly belong to someone else. The latter thought threatened to drive Louis crazy.  
  
Deciding to keep himself otherwise occupied, Louis slid out of bed, careful as to not wake Harry. His thighs trembled, and he ached deep inside his body. His first few steps were a little more than a hobble, as long unused muscles and flesh protested their treatment during the night. Silently he gathered his clothes and tip-toed out of the room.  
  
Tink trotted from the kitchen as soon as he came downstairs, his eagerness telling Louis that he was late, that he was hungry, but he forgave everything for the joy of his company. Louis poured him some food into his bowl, then immediately went to rebuild the fire. It had burned down to embers and the cabin was cold. He relaid the fire, the kindling catching immediately from the glowing embers, and carefully stacked three logs on the grate. Then he put on a pot of coffee and, while it was brewing, went into the downstairs bathroom and stepped into the shower. As soon as the luxurious water sprayed down on his body, Louis made a mental note to write a ten page thank you letter to whoever had invented the indoor water heater.  
  
The shower went a long way towards relieving his aches and pains. Feeling much better, he pulled on a pair of black sweat pants and a black hoodie from his own merch line before padding back out into the kitchen and pouring himself his first cup of coffee. Cup in hand, he walked back into the great room to survey the damage done the night before. Water was pooled on the floor, and Harry’s discarded clothes still laid in a heap in the corner. Taking a deep breath, Louis sat his cup on a nearby table and set to work hanging the clothes over the balcony railing to dry. He slung the heavy down parka over a chair and set the sodden boots beside the fireplace so they could dry slowly. Until Harry’s clothes dried he would have to make due wearing something of Louis's. Shirts would probably be no problem, but the pants would more than likely be a few inches too short.   
  
Setting that thought aside until Harry woke up, Louis continued to survey the house. He picked up the phone to check it, but the line was dead, not even static coming through. He turned on the radio and got static, but nothing else. Given the conditions outside, he hadn’t expected anything more, but checking for signs of life had gotten to be a habit.  
  
Carrying his cup of coffee with him, he tidied up the great room, putting the blankets and towels he had used in the laundry room to be washed later. He cleaned up the puddles of melted snow and ice. Tink had been back and forth through the water several times of course, leaving wet doggy tracks all over the house. Louis had just finished wiping up the evidence when he heard a voice from the stairs.  
  
“I thought I smelled coffee.”  
  
His head jerked up. Harry was standing at the balcony railing, his hair tousled, his jaw dark with beard stubble, his eyes still heavy lidded from sleep. His voice was hoarse, making Louis fear he was getting sick.  
  
“I’ll bring a cup up to you,” Louis said. “It’s too cold down here for you to be walking around without clothes.”  
  
“Then I think I’ll stay right here. I’m not ready to be cold again just yet- or ever again, really.” He gave Louis that impish little grin and turned to pet Tink who had bounded up the stairs at the sound of the new voice.  
  
Louis went into the laundry room and grabbed a clean pair of pajama pants and freshly washed hoodie for Harry to wear. With the small stack of clothes in his arms, he went into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, then carried everything upstairs.   
  
The roaring fire had quickly warmed the upper level. The bathroom door was open and Harry was in the shower. Louis set the cup on the vanity. “Here’s your coffee.”  
  
Harry pulled the curtain aside and stuck his head out. Water streamed down his face. “Would you please hand it to me? Thanks.” He drank deeply, sighing as the caffeine jolted through him.  
  
“I brought you some clothes. I hope you don’t mind wearing something of mine.” It seemed a strange statement to make considering the night they had spent together, but Louis's mother had indoctrinated him with manners.  
  
“I don’t mind if you don’t.” Green eyes regarded him over the rim of the cup. “I’m glad you said that they’re yours, that they don’t belong to a boyfriend or something. We really didn’t go into those kinds of details last night, but I don’t like to have sex with people who are already spoken for- and I know that there are so many other things I’d like to do to you.”  
  
“I’m single.” Louis paused, realizing his response had sounded all too eager. He took a deep breath and tried again. “I had the same thoughts about you this morning. That I hadn’t asked if you’re married, or if you’re seeing anyone.”  
  
“I’m not married or seeing anyone.” He took another sip of coffee. “So, where is everyone else? Did you come up here alone?”  
  
“The owners and caretakers of this place are visiting their new granddaughter. They’ll be gone at least a week, I’m sure.”  
  
Harry handed him the cup back, smiling. “Think the blizzard will last another week?”

Louis laughed. “I doubt it.”   
  
“Damn. At least there’s no question of leaving today, though I guess I should let some people know where I am.”  
  
“You can’t. The phone lines are down. I just checked.”  
  
“Right.” The green eyes twinkled as he pulled the shower curtain closed. “I'm marooned with a sexy popstar.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A horrible blizzard traps Louis in his cabin. Lucky for him, a handsome stranger wanders in on the storm...

When Harry came downstairs half an hour later, he was freshly shaved. He looked alert and vital in the sweats Louis had provided. The pants were indeed a bit short, but the shirt fit perfectly, a little tight but not enough to be uncomfortable.  
  
Louis normally would have eaten cereal, but with his visitor there, he was cooking a traditional bacon and eggs breakfast. Harry came up behind him as he stood at the island, turning bacon with a fork, and wrapped his arms around Louis’s thin waist. Harry kissed the back of his neck and rested his head between Louis's shoulder blades. “I don’t know which smells best, the coffee, the bacon, or you.”  
  
“Wow, I’m impressed. I must really smell good, if I rank up there with coffee and bacon.”   
  
Louis felt Harry grin, felt warm lips dropping tiny kisses along his back. “Fuck the bacon and the coffee; I would much rather devour you.” Harry's tone was both teasing and serious, sensual, and a wave of heat that had nothing to do with the embarrassment that swept over Louis. With his knees suddenly weak, Louis had no choice but to lean back into Harry’s strong arms. He had a serious swelling in the groin area, and Louis couldn’t help rolling his hips and rubbing his ass against it.  
  
“I think we need to go back to bed.” There was no teasing at all in his voice this time.  
  
“Now?”  
  
“Now.” Harry reached around Louis and turned off the cook top.

\--

  
Ten minutes later, Louis was naked, breathless, and trembling on the verge of climax. He was on all fours in the middle of his king-sized bed, and Harry was behind him, driving into him with his tongue. No matter how many times Louis protested, tried to pull their bodies closer together, Harry would swat his hands away and continue on with reckless abandon.  
  
Eventually, Louis surrendered, gave himself over to the absolute madness of his body and his soul. His hips arched up and back to meet Harry's tongue time and time again until the tension broke and his body shuddered with completion. Only when Louis's limbs went limp did Harry move upward, bathing Louis's back with his heat, and penetrating him with one smooth thrust that took him all the way in.  
  
Louis inhaled deeply, having already forgotten how completely Harry filled him and the intensity of their union. He began a gentle back and forth motion between their bodies and Louis could not stop the flood of tears that broke from his eyes.

\--

  
Afterward, while Louis was in the bathroom, Harry finished dressing– again– and called out, "I’ll go down and start breakfast again.”  
  
“I’ll be there in a minute.” Louis still felt incredibly weak-kneed, and yet somehow relieved. He stared at his face in the mirror, his blue eyes wild and blown. It had to be some kind of mistake, a cosmic joke without the punch-line. A stranger who wanders in on a storm? The idea was straight out of a cheesy romance novel and yet here he was, staring at himself in the mirror, while said stranger was downstairs making breakfast. Chastising himself for over-thinking, and for not enjoying the moment while it lasted, Louis pulled it together and headed downstairs.  
  
The first ten minutes of breakfast were eerily quiet. Louis couldn’t make his eyes meet Harry's, and for the first time the man seemed distant and unapproachable. There was another five minutes of silence before Louis couldn’t take it any longer and his voice cut into the air.  
  
“You said you were going to meet up with friends?” Harry nodded, but didn’t offer any further details.   
  
“Yep, me and a couple of my friends do this every year.”  
  
“Have you ever been to US before?”  
  
“One other time, but that trip was all business and no pleasure. I was tryna make it as a stand up comedian. Needless to say, that didn't quite work out.” Harry hesitated a moment then grabbed Louis's hand that was resting on the table. “I’m glad I gave the US another chance, except for the almost freezing to death part. Had I stayed home and hadn’t crashed the truck, I never would have met you– and Tinkerbell of course."  
  
The dog, lying on the floor between their chairs in obvious hopes of doubling his chances of catching a stray tidbit, perked up when he heard his name.  
  
“Table scraps aren’t good for you,” Louis said. “Besides, you’ve already eaten.” Tink didn’t look discouraged and Harry laughed. “So, since the stand up comedy didn't work out, what do you do for a living now?”  
  
"I've been a professional photographer for almost six years.” His mouth quirked with amusement. “For the record, I’m twenty-five, I’m a fairly heavy drinker and occasional smoker, but I've tried to quit it down. And single for the last two and a half years.”  
  
Louis put down his fork, mouth open in a surprised expression. “I wasn’t–“  
  
“Yes you were, and it’s okay. I wanted to know more about you, too; I just wasn’t sure where to start.”  
  
“You can ask me anything.”  
  
Harry's mouth worked itself into that sensual grin. “What kind of underwear do you usually wear?”  
  
Determined to display his own charisma, Louis reached out and traced just the tips of his fingers over the soft skin of Harry’s wrist. “None at all, if my outfit will allow it.”  
  
Harry smiled and placed a sweet kiss on Louis’s lips. “So, Louis Tomlinson, when conditions are back to normal, will you go out for dinner with me?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Louis said, a deliberately coy look on his face. “A date? I don’t think I’m ready for that.”  
  
Harry chuckled and started to answer, but a sunbeam fell across their conjoined hands. Startled, they both looked at the light, then out the window. The wind had stopped blowing, and patches of blue sky were visible.  
  
“I’ll be damned,” he said, getting up to walk over to the window to look out. “I thought the storm would last longer than this.”  
  
“So did I,” Louis said, his disappointment more intense than he wanted to show. The clearing weather meant Harry would be leaving sooner than he had anticipated, but did that necessarily mean they would never see each other again?  
  
Louis went over to the window too, and gasped when he saw the amount of snow. The familiar terrain was completely transformed, disguised by drifts of snow that appeared to level out the landscape. The wind had piled snow to window level on the porch.  
  
“It’ll take a while to clear the roads.” Harry walked to the door and opened it. The frigidity of the air seemed to suck the warmth from the room. “Holy fuck!” He slammed the door. “The temperature has to be below minus ten. No chance of any of this melting.”  
  
Refusing to let himself dwell on the thought of Harry leaving, Louis busied himself with chores around the house. Harry helped him gather the clothes that had been set to dry on the railing and take them to the laundry room for a proper washing, then he braved the outside cold long enough to gather more fire wood.  
  
After Harry brought in the last load of wood and stacked it near the fireplace, he grabbed his coat. “I’m going to clear off the steps.”  
  
“That can wait until the weather’s warmer.”  
  
“Now that the wind isn’t blowing, it’s bearable for a few minutes, and that’s all it’ll take to clear the steps.” With that, he buttoned his heavy coat and stepped outside.  
  
Louis watched the door close and felt a part of his insides grow cold. Of course, it had all been too good to be true, and he had known that from the beginning. Still, that hadn’t prevented him from wishing, from hoping that what he had with Harry was real and not just an illusion created by the unusual circumstances.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A terrible blizzard leaves Louis stranded in his cabin. But as fate would have it, he doesn't need to be alone for long...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here, the final chapter! Rather short but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless. :)

It was after midnight when Harry finally crawled in bed and wrapped his arms around Louis’s tiny waist. The two men had co-existed in an uncomfortable silence from the moment Harry had returned inside from shoveling the densely packed snow.

Harry placed a gentle, almost hesitant kiss against a creamy shoulder, and spoke with his lips still pressed against the skin, “I have a confession to make." He placed another series of butterfly kisses down the middle of Louis’s back. “But I don’t want you to say anything until I’m finished, okay?”

Louis nodded for Harry to continue, unconsciously burrowing further into the heat of his body.

“I-I think I’m in love with you. I know everything happened too fast, but... I know what I feel. From the moment I opened my eyes and saw your face, I wanted you. All of you. For me to keep.” He paused, but true to his word, Louis didn’t respond. “So...” 

Louis felt his chest tighten, the familiar sting of tears welling in his eyes. “So?” he repeated.

“So... what do you think? Are you in this with me or am I totally crazy?”

Without leaving Harry's embrace, Louis turned to look at him. “I probably love you, too.”

“Probably?” 

Louis couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face as he nestled closer to his wonderful, crazy Englishman.

“Definitely.”

“Say it for me?” Harry pleaded, the need for reassurance dripping from his voice.

“I love you, Harry Styles, I do. But we really should take our time, get to know each other–“

Harry gave a low laugh. “Take our time? Get to know each other? It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

Louis had no answer because too much had happened in too short of a time. He felt as if the past day had been weeks long. Thrown together as they had been under extreme circumstances, he had seen the man in a multitude of situations, but he knew that his first dazed, deliriously joyous impression of him had been accurate. 

“Marry me, Lou. As soon as possible. Come with me to the mountains to meet my friends and to explore the ski routes with me, and come live with me in London.”

“You’re sure? What will all your friends and family say about– me?”

“They’ll love you because I love you, and if they don’t, fuck ‘em.” Harry continued, rambling too fast for Louis to interrupt. “But if you don’t want to come with me, then we can stay here. I can handle spending the rest of my life in this cabin. What I can’t handle is spending my life without you.” Harry paused, thoughtfully running his fingertips down the curve of Louis's flawless cheek. “Or, if you like, we don’t have to go to anywhere in particular. We can just get on a plane and go wherever it takes us. All you have to do is say the word and I will give you the world. I swear I will.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Louis wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and kissed him until they were both breathless.

“Word.”


End file.
